He pulled out his pocket body camera, a custom he had never lost, and turned it on.
Meanwhile, an official car stopped by the sidewalk.
He lowered the window.
It was Alberto Flores, councilor of the municipality.
Inspector, everything under control?
Richard straightened up.
“Yes, Mr. Councilman. A minor problem. Breaking and disobedience.
Alberto looked at Don Manuel handcuffed on the floor.
For a moment he seemed to recognize it.
But he decided not to.
-Okay. We have to keep this park safe.
He went up the window and left.
Sergio lifted Don Manuel out of a tug and took him to the patrol car.
People made their way.
Mobiles up.
Forty cameras recording.
The crying girl got loose from her mother and asked:
“Mom, is that man bad?”
The mother, with tears in her face, denied.
No, honey. It's not bad.
Sergio opened the back door of the car.
He put his hand over Don Manuel’s head and pushed him inward.
But he did it wrong.
By the way.
Don Manuel’s forehead crashed into the frame.
Toc.
“Beware of the head, Grandpa,” said Sergio, with a smile.
The door closed.
Metal against metal.
Don Manuel sat behind, handcuffed, calm.
Like I'm waiting for the bus.
Sergio sat behind the wheel.
Ricardo, by his side.
Central, here Molina. A detainee for disobedience, disturbance of order and resistance. Road to police station.
The radio replied:
"Received.
There was a little pause.
One doubt.
Because three minutes earlier, an operator had received a strange call from someone who claimed to speak on behalf of the National Agency asking about director Rivas.
She thought it was a joke.
I wasn't so sure now.
